Sirius Strangelove
by tuesdaymidnight
Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are getting married. When Sirius starts in on the brandy at the reception, secrets of his sexual proclivities spill forth and we finally get the answer to the age-old question: two feet or four? EWE. Contains mature themes.


**Title:** Sirius Strangelove or: How Harry Learned to Stop Questioning His Family Tree and Trust His Husband

**Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy; mention of Sirius Black/Petunia Evans and Remus Lupin/Petunia Evans

**Warnings:** EWE. Completely and utterly AU and a bit OOC. This is complete crack!fic. Characters are alive who shouldn't be, and there may be [read: there is] mention of bestiality.

**Author's Note:** This was originally posted in the HP Crack and Humour Fest on livejournal in response to the following prompt: "'Har, did I ever tell you 'bout the time I took yer auntie ta bed?' Sirius said in slurred voice. The silence was deafening when all the Weasley heads turned to look at him." At Harry's wedding, Sirius over-imbibes and all sorts of secrets come tumbling out. The Twins are taking notes."

Thank you to my three lovely betas on this: coolbreeeze, PerfectlyPersuasive and OnTheTurningAway.

* * *

"Where are the swans? There were supposed to be swans!" Draco stomped his foot petulantly as he stared out the window of his old bedroom and down at the Malfoy grounds. The wedding guests had been arriving for the past hour and were being escorted to their seats by house elves, who had insisted on being supplied with white tuxedos as an indication of their freedom.

"Draco, sweetie, breathe," Pansy said in as soothing a voice as she could muster after having to deal with him all morning. "The swans are on the front lawn mingling with the Malfoy peacocks."

"They're with the peacocks!"

"Yes-"

"Get them off of the lawn! Now!" the blond bellowed.

Pansy rolled her eyes as she tried to place a hand on Draco's arm in a soothing gesture. "Draco, darling, the peacocks are so well-trained they won't attack the swans."

Draco swatted Pansy's hand away. "It's not that! Malfoy peacocks are extremely virile."

"I don't think they can cross-breed with swans but-"

"Magic, Pans! Just get them out! I'm not dealing with the DRCMC on my wedding day!"

"The DRCMC?"

"The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!" Draco shrieked.

"Yes, dear," Pansy said with a roll of her eyes and left Draco in his dressing room to finish primping.

She ran into Hermione on the stairs on her way out to the lawn.

"I hope yours is doing better than mine."

"Oh, he's been trying to tame his hair with gel charms for the past twenty minutes. I've already had to unstick his hands twice and I've cast _Scourgify_ more times today than I care to remember."

"Why is he trying to do that? I can't tell you how many times I've heard Draco fawning over Harry's fabulous 'sex hair.'"

"Honestly, I still don't understand how the two of them function together at all," Hermione replied. "I was just on my way to get Draco's final signature on the bonding documents."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to see you. He's been complaining about the Ministry losing their license for weeks."

"Well," Hermione lowered her voice. "Don't tell Draco, but it wasn't really lost. Apparently Romilda Vane was up to her old tricks. She's an undersecretary in the DMLECRBDD, and she-"

"Wait," Pansy held up a hand to stop her. "What in Merlin's name is the D-M-L-M-N-O-P-, or whatever it is you just said?"

"Oh," Hermione said thoughtfully, as if she never had to answer the question before. "It's the Department of Magical Law Enforcement: Contracts and Really Boring Documents Division."

"You Ministry workers and your terrible acronyms," Pansy muttered with a shake of her head. "You were saying about that wench Vane?"

"Yes, well, Romilda saw the bonding license papers going through. Of course, she got extremely jealous because she still thinks that Harry is destined for her, despite him being queerer than a three sickle coin, so she charmed them into paper airplanes that wouldn't stop flying unless you shouted out the magic word. No one in the Ministry could get them to stop zipping through the halls for a week!"

"That slag!" Pansy gasped. "Well, what was the magic word?"

"It was 'please,'" Hermione said. "Romilda never really was all that clever."

Pansy shook her head in disbelief. "Well, you'd better run along. I have to go give some peacocks a cold shower or Draco will have my hide."

Hermione didn't question the strange statement and continued trudging up the staircase to find Draco.

Meanwhile, in the opposite wing of the Manor, Harry had finally given up on his hair and was instead listening to Ron give him what was meant to be a pep talk.

"You're sure about this Harry?" Ron asked for at least the 493rd time since he caught Harry and Draco _in flagrante delicto_ in Luna Lovegood's bed in Ravenclaw tower sometime around their completely unnecessary, mostly to keep the school accredited, '8th year.' Having a host of above-age witches and wizards on school grounds only proved to be a breeding ground for hormones, and the Ministry regretted the policy change after receiving numerous complaints of moans coming from student bed chambers that were decidedly not Myrtle's. Ron, of course, was simply enjoying a leisurely broom ride and NOT peeping into the girl's dormitories to see if they really did get their own individual suites like Ginny said. He was actually being quite brave when he saw movement in the window and went to investigate. It could have been an intruder! Which, well, it was actually. Ron still hadn't figured out how Draco and Harry managed to get into the girl's side of the dormitory, but then he was never the sharpest quill in the classroom.

"I love him, Ron. We've been over this at least 493 times!"

"I know you do mate, but I'm just not quite sure you know what you're getting into here." He began speaking slowly for emphasis. "You're bonding your soul to Malfoy's."

"Of course I am! That's what happens at a bonding ceremony!"

"For eternity," Ron added.

"Yeah, I realize that," Harry replied dryly.

"He- he let Death Eaters into Hogwarts!" Ron replayed his favorite objection with a sputter, his face turning red enough to match his hair. The effect of turning the color of pumpkin juice didn't help his case.

"We've been over this, too! They were on our side!"

Even years after Harry defeated Voldemort in a rather uneventful showdown that involved Voldy giving a very long-winded 'bad guy speech' about his cunning plan, and a well-directed hemlock charm right into old Snakeface's open mouth on Harry's part, Ron still wasn't convinced that not only were Snape and the Malfoys really on the side of the light all along, but that Bellatrix Lestrange was too. She just happened to be a stunning actress at playing crazy, and her acclaim as a war hero earned her a starring role in one of the longest running plays on Merlin's Back End, the wizarding world's answer to London's West End.

"But it- it's Malfoy!" Ron was on the verge of a pout. "He always brings pear pudding over when you have dinner with us even though he knows it's Hermione's favorite and not mine."

"You just don't like him because he's the only one you know who can beat you at chess."

"He cheats."

Ron and Harry both knew that though Draco Malfoy would bend the truth to get his way, he would never cheat at wizard's chess. Beating Ron of his own volition was much more satisfying.

"Look, Ron. You're my best mate and you always will be, so can't you just be happy for me?"

"Nothing I can say will persuade you to forget this nonsense and bond with Ginny instead?"

"Ron, for the last time, I'm bent. I like having a cock up my arse, and Draco does this thing with his tongue that-"

"There's no need to get graphic!" Ron screeched. "I know how it works, yeah."

"Well, then," Harry said as the notes of the string quartet drifted up through the window. "If there's nothing else, I should go down there and face the music."

He adjusted his bowtie in the mirror one last time. With the mirror's whistle of approval, he grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him downstairs.

The back lawn of Malfoy Manor had been transformed into a gorgeous wedding venue.

The main aisle was littered with flower petals, of all kinds of exotic varieties, in stark contrast to the white altar constructed just for the occasion. There were tiny fairies floating around holding twinkling lights that were just beginning to show themselves as the sun began its descent. The sky was perfectly cloudless allowing the intense hues of sunset to beam forth unobstructed, so much so that Harry was almost fully convinced that Draco was powerful enough to ensure that the weather complied with the occasion.

Harry was the first to walk down the aisle, escorted by his godfather.

Truth be told, Harry was still a little upset about the whole "falling through the veil" thing during his 5th year at Hogwarts. Apparently all dogs _don't _go to heaven, because the minute Sirius fell through the veil in the Department of Mysteries, he was spit out in Sheboygan. But Sirius was the closest thing to a relative Harry had other than the dreaded Dursleys, and he was surprisingly the only person who didn't make any kind of objection to his bonding with Draco.

Even though he was on their side, Draco had a bit of a tendency to rub people the wrong way, but like his godson, Sirius's taste swayed toward the feisty, so for him Harry's choice was obvious.

Harry had made Draco take a wizard's oath that he would never seek out the Dursleys to punish them for their misdeeds. Even though Draco had scrolls filled with ways in which he could get them back for the dreadful and traumatizing childhood Harry suffered, Harry had managed to make very tentative amends with them. Every December, he got a kick out of picking out a wizarding Yuletide greeting card to send the Dursleys. He knew that it probably made smoke come out of Uncle Vernon's angry red ears and he immediately chucked it into the fireplace in a stomping fit, but Draco had adamantly refused to allow Harry to even send them an announcement of their wedding. Harry knew they would never attend such an event anyway, but he couldn't find it in himself to push the issue when Draco's irrational gestures came from a place of love. He did manage to convince Draco that having a mandatory wand check for all the guests was unnecessary, and that was a victory in and of itself. Making wizards surrender their wands for a social gathering bordered on treason.

Even without the Dursleys, those seated on Harry's side of the lawn were numerous and smiling at him as he walked down the aisle to take his place at the altar where the Minister of Magic himself was waiting to perform the ceremony.

Sometimes it paid to be Harry Potter.

There was a legion of flame-haired Weasleys sitting near the front. Fred and George had decided to coordinate, of course, and were wearing the most hideous maroon and gold dress robes Harry had ever seen. They made Ron's Yule Ball robes from 4th year look like material for the annual "year in style" _Witch Weekly_ cover. Still, it was Luna's hat that took the cake. In fact, Harry thought, it very well could have been a miniature cake, or a circus tent, or just a pile of colored tulle.

In contrast, Draco's side of the aisle was filled with much more demure dressers. There were a lot of dour black robes, though some were accented with Slytherin green. Harry could have sworn he saw moths fly out of Araminta Meliflua's robes when she shifted in her seat.

While Harry was walking down the aisle, Draco was working out some last minute nerves, while his mother fussed over his bowtie and his father looked boredly at his own neatly manicured nails. It wasn't that Lucius wasn't pleased that his son was being bonded with one of the most powerful (and wealthy) wizards of his generation, it was just that Lucius was extremely vain. He didn't want a repeat of the horrible hangnail incident at he and his wife's 30th anniversary party.

Draco's heart was pounding, even as his mother gave him a final hug of approval, but then the music switched to his anthem and there was no going back. Of course, in typical Malfoy fashion, as soon as Draco saw the crowd of wizards all gathered on Malfoy Manor grounds for the bonding ceremony, he calmed immediately and put a smile on his face. He surveyed the crowd and the way their eyes watched him with a variety of emotions – happiness from Aunt B, mild irritability from Severus, outright jealousy from Blaise, who had pined for Harry for as long as Draco had known him, and a smug look of satisfaction from Pansy.

Harry, on the other hand, paid none of the spectators any more notice. His eyes were trained on his husband-to-be, who literally floated down the aisle like Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington in the halls of Hogwarts, thanks to a subtle levitation spell.

Eventually, once Draco's steel gray eyes met his beloved's grassy greens, the rest of the crowd disappeared for him, too.

The bonding ceremony itself was very traditional, but there was nary a dry eye in the house when Harry and Draco exchanged their vows of eternal devotion.

And so they were pronounced husband and husband.

The reception was in full swing when Harry and Draco finished getting photographs taken and changed out of their dress robes. Harry had been thoroughly irritated after just the third location change, but Draco insisted upon having photographs taken in all 17 of his favorite places in the Manor, including a very awkward boudoir photo that Harry was hoping would stay buried in Draco's silk sock drawer.

A cheer rose up in the crowd as the new couple entered the floating canopy. It was spelled to look like a ballroom inside the tent. Of course, they could have simply held the event inside one of the Malfoy ballrooms, but outdoor receptions were very posh at the time, and Draco knew his Harry hated stuffy ballrooms. Living in a cupboard for the majority of your childhood would make anyone claustrophobic.

Harry waved to the table of Weasleys sitting a bit removed from the dance floor, but Draco nudged him and he remembered Draco's promise.

Draco promised to give Harry's arse a thorough rimming on their wedding night if Harry mingled for at least an hour before retreating into the familiarity of red-head country.

Harry did his best.

Of course, he was more than happy to talk to his old Griffyndor mates like Neville and Seamus, but things got a bit more uncomfortable when Professor Trelawney enveloped Harry in a hug and then proceeded to tell him that his aura was going to suffer in about an hour.

That was followed by another awkward hug from Professor MacGonagall, who was wearing rather tall heels, putting Harry's face right around the level of her bosoms.

After escaping the clutches of former Hogwart's staff, Harry was accosted by Xenophilius Lovegood about doing a post-bonding interview for _The_ _Quibbler_. That didn't bother Harry so much, but then he began to ask about the likelihood of there being gnorgles, which was apparently the interspecies result of a gnome mating with a nargle, on the Malfoy property and the conversation devolved from there. Luckily, Luna came in to intercept her father, and to offer Harry her own congratulations in addition to a handmade wedding gift that Harry could not identify but was too polite to ask.

"It's a verilitas amulet," Luna offered. "To promote fertility."

"Thank you, Luna," Harry said politely. He didn't have the heart to question her. Anyway, it wasn't as if magic had never surprised him before. He made a note not to keep the tadpole-shaped amulet as far away from the bedroom as possible.

Harry's hour was almost up when Blaise came over to give him what Harry thought was a congratulatory hug, but Blaise hung onto Harry a little too long, and Harry was pretty sure that wasn't his wand poking him in the waist. When his hands began to drift, Draco was across the room in a flash with his wand out.

Only the loud, echoing sound of a spoon tapping against fine crystal saved Blaise and Harry from Draco's wrath. It seemed Narcissa Malfoy had chosen that exact moment to cast a _Sonorous_ to draw the attention of the guests, stopping the party, and Draco, in their tracks.

"Thank you, honored guests," she said in a regal tone. "I won't take up much of your time. I just wanted to thank you for attending this joyous occasion. Draco, dear, please stop trying to hex the Zabini boy, you used to take baths together when you were little."

A dual snicker was heard from an area of the crowd heavy in red-headed individuals.

"I'm so elated that my son found his soulmate at so young an age, and I'm even more elated that these boys finally decided to make this official. Imagine my shock going into Draco's room during the winter holidays his final year at Hogwarts to find him on his knees in front of a-

"Mother!" Draco interrupted.

"It's not as if everyone in this room hasn't see the two of you being overly affectionate at one time or another," Narcissa snarked back.

The room tittered.

"Regardless, I wish you both a lifetime of happiness. Harry, I couldn't be more thrilled to have you as a part of this family."

Snape's huff was barely audible, but enough that Narcissa shot him a glare before continuing.

"Maestro Dobby," she called. "I do believe it is time for the couple's first dance."

The crowd burst into applause as Harry and Draco strolled hand in hand to the center of the dance floor.

Harry was still a terrible dancer, so Draco took the lead. He had threatened to hex Harry's balls if he stepped on his dragon-hide shoes, so Harry had spent hours practicing the traditional bonding dance. Of course, they both knew that Draco loved Harry's balls and the threat was empty.

The warning worked, however, because Harry made it through all 29 complicated steps without incident. He was so thrilled with his success that he stayed on the dance floor for three more songs, dancing next with Molly, then with Narcissa and finally with Hermione.

Hermione's feet were not spared, unfortunately, and after the waltz ended, she suggested a break.

Harry had met his quota of mingling, so he happily let Hermione lead him to a table where the Weasley brothers had gathered along with Sirius. They all lived so far apart these days, they were using the wedding reception as a chance to catch up.

Fred and George were also trying to pump Sirius for information about charms. They had never been able to replicate the Marauder's Map and were always harassing both Padfoot and Moony for the secret.

Sirius, however, was much more interested in the bottle of brandy on the table.

"'Arry!" he greeted his godson with a shout. "S'good ta see ya. S'down. S'down. 'Ave a drink."

Harry took a chair at the table and poured himself a small glass of the brandy.

"How much has he had to drink?" he heard Hermione whisper to Ron.

"Wait!" Sirius called, drowning out Ron's response, as Harry started to bring the glass to his lips. "A toast! A toast!"

"A toast sounds like-" George started.

"-a smashing idea," Fred finished. "Why don't you do the honours, Sirius?"

Sirius waited a moment for the rest of the assembled group to get their brandy-filled glasses in hand before he raised his own.

"I'm a wee bit arse hol'd."

One of the twins snorted.

"So I'll keep this brief," Sirius continued, his arm starting to sag. "To Har fer tyin' 'imself to that cousin a'mine. Now yer 'fficially a part of the family."

Sirius clinked his glass to Harry's, some of the brandy sloshing out. Sirius downed the liquid quickly and put the glass back on the table. While Harry clinked glasses with his all-but-adopted brothers, Sirius reached for the bottle and poured himself a refill, muttering something about family.

"Har, did I ever tell you 'bout the time I took yer auntie ta bed?" Sirius said in a slurred voice.

The silence was deafening when all the Weasley heads turned to look at him.

Sirius didn't seem to notice the silence, his eyes slightly glazed over with drink. He was looking at Harry like he expected a response, but Harry was so stuck between being stunned and horrified that he could only sit with his mouth agape, staring back.

Fred and George turned to each other with their eyes wide, and it was they who finally ended the silence.

"I'm sorry, did you just say-" Fred started.

"-that you slept with Petunia Dursley?" George finished.

"Of course, she wasn't Dursley then," Fred added.

"Of course not," George echoed. A second later his face paled and he turned to Sirius. "Right?"

Meanwhile, he nudged Fred, who promptly pulled a pocket parchment book and a muggle pen out of his jacket. The Weasley family hit a bit of good fortune when Arthur's fondness for all things muggle finally paid off. He was attributed with introducing the wizarding world to the ball-point pen, putting a near end to the days of quills and messy inkpot spills.

Sirius seemed to come to some state of coherency as he responded to the twins with an absent nod before reaching once more for his snifter. Harry was still unable to speak, instead choosing to exchange looks with Ron and Hermione. Well, he mostly exchanged looks with Hermione, Ron was looking a little green around the gills. Bill and Charlie sported equally horrified expressions, as they both had seen Petunia while on 'Harry protection duty' during the War. And Percy, well, Percy was blushing furiously. It was no secret that he carried a torch for Sirius since he helped retrieve him from Sheboygan through a series of international portkeys of questionable legality. Thinking about Sirius in bed with anyone was enough to get his blood flowing.

It was in this moment of awkward silence that Draco appeared.

"What's with all the gaping jaws? Did you lot finally realize that you're gingers?"

"I was jus' tellin' 'em 'bout the time I buggr'd 'Arry's Auntie," Sirius responded, finally putting down his glass.

"Pardon?" Draco's voice squeaked as his ivory complexion paled ever so slightly.

"Summer o' '69, er, sumpthin' like 'at," Sirius slurred.

Draco plopped, rather ungracefully, into the chair next to his still very stunned husband. He quickly sought Harry's hand, and Harry took it readily.

"She wus a right slag, 'Tunia wus," Sirius continued with no prompting.

"Just your type then, eh, Padfoot?" George asked, clamping his hand on Sirius's shoulder.

Sirius just chuckled and gave an exaggerated wink directed at some spot between Fred and George and the table.

"She liked me in me animagus form, she did."

Fred and George leaned forward, both trying to avoid laughter.

"Just how much did she like it?" Fred asked, his pen poised.

"Did she _like_ like it?" George echoed.

"Used ta run 'er fingers through me fur real nice. Gave a belly rub like ya wouldn' believe." Sirius's expression grew nostalgic as his own right hand drifted down to give his belly a pat. He looked at it sadly, as if hoping that Petunia's hand would appear in its place.

With a wistful sigh and a shake of his head, Sirius took another drink. His arm was unsteady as he set the glass back on the table and his whole upper body began to sway.

"But I know what yer implyin', you scoundrels," he pointed a finger in the general direction of Fred and George, but it wavered so much it was enough to throw Sirius a bit off balance. Harry reached out an arm to steady his godfather.

"A gentleman would ne'er-" he stopped himself and took another drink. "But I'm no gentleman."

Fred and George gave each other a surreptitious high five. This was exactly the kind of blackmail they needed to get the Marauder's Map charm.

"Wus a fan o' doggy-style when I wus me. But when I wus Padfoot, she'd really let loose. Liked 'avin' her back claw'd she did."

"Someone should stop him," Hermione whispered calmly, though she didn't make a move to herself.

Fred waved his arm to shush her.

"'Ad a good thing goin' 'til ol' Remus came 'round durin' that time o' the month. After she met Moony, I jus' couldn't compare."

He cleared his throat and then leaned forward as if he was sharing a secret with someone.

"You know his bits don't r'tract when 'es in 'is werew-"

His voice cut off as he started falling, but everyone was too stunned at his confession to put a cushioning charm on the table. His head hit the hard surface with a loud 'thwack.'

Another heavy silence fell over the assembled gawkers as they stared down at Sirius and then at each other with a range of horrified and disbelieving expressions.

It took Draco to break it.

"Well, Harry," he said, standing up from the table and brushing his hands together as if there was something dirty on them. "Aren't you glad I didn't let you invite your relatives now?"

_fin._


End file.
